Best Man
by Marka.Carbondale
Summary: Blaine finds himself in a dressing room on the day of the St. James-Berry wedding, still his best man, and still hopelessly in love with him. Blesse. St. Berry.


_**Best Man**_

_—**xx—**_

_"I'd like you to be my best man."_

_"Best man."_

_"Best man."_

_Bestmanbestman. Best man?_

No matter how much he repeats the statement in his mind, mouths the words silently, even says them aloud, Blaine is unable to contemplate the meaning behind such words. Being Jesse St. James' "best man" implies a number of things, things he is either quite fond of or things that he would rather ignore completely.

One. Jesse St. James is his best friend. He is okay with this. To a point.

Two. Jesse St. James is getting married. The statement has potential to be a good one, but alas, he's not entirely happy about it, because—

Three. Jesse St. James is getting married… to someone that is not Blaine Anderson.

There are not words in any of the three languages that Blaine has learned over the years that can properly express his extreme distaste for this statement. He knew that the announcement of Jesse's engagement to Rachel Berry would inevitably and unfortunately lead to his marriage to Rachel Berry, but a small part of him hoped and still hopes that something will come up and Jesse will call the whole thing off. He knows he shouldn't wish such a thing upon his best friend, but the heart wants what the heart wants; and Blaine's heart wants Jesse.

You see, Blaine Anderson has been passionately and quite regrettably in love with Jesse St. James for five years and six months, during their five year and _nine_ month friendship.

Blaine has always been much too timid to admit such feelings, timidness that only increased when Jesse began dating Rachel again, two years and eight months ago. Unfortunately, being both his best friend _and_ roommate, Blaine had a front row seat to watch as Jesse took Rachel out on dates and made her dinner and, further down the line, brought her over, night after night with increasing frequency. What was even _more_ unfortunate about this situation was that it seemed that the farther the two ventured into the realm of "serious relationship," the farther Blaine tumbled hopelessly into deep, all-consuming love with his best friend.

Love that made him covet Rachel Berry. Love that made him bitter when she came around. Love that makes him spiteful and angry and short with people who don't rightfully deserve it, and all of the less-desirable traits that he didn't previously possess.

So, when the happy couple bursts into his apartment one late evening, interrupting Blaine's ill attempts to study in the living room, with broad, perhaps alcohol-induced smiles plastered on their faces, Blaine knows that this won't end will for him. Jesse and Rachel exchange a happy look and, after a moment of silence, where each look as though they are dams, holding back a rushing river of a secret, Rachel bounds forward onto the seat next to him and announces, "We're getting married, Blaine!"

Blaine will never forget this moment; this moment in which both his heart and the world seem to come to a sudden halt; this moment in which all five of his senses appear be taking a hiatus; this moment in which all of his worst fears have come true; this moment in which he has now confirmed that Jesse will never be his, and that Rachel is the victor.

And they were never even competing.

Blain had somehow managed to relocate his composure and play the part of best friend, enveloping Rachel in a tight hug, smiling at Jesse, congratulating them and wishing them the best, all the while trying to hurry and come to terms with the news.

The two had stumbled off to bed and consummated the announcement a bit too loud for Blaine's taste.

The next day after Rachel had left, Jesse comes quietly into Blaine's room and, through his still-present grin, makes one statement.

"I'd like you to be my best man."

From his desk, Blaine agrees without turning around. He doesn't want Jesse to see his still tear-streaked face and sleepless eyes. Jesse is hesitant for a moment, but slaps a hand on Blaine's shoulder and thanks him.

Six months later, Blaine is wrapped up in a slim, black tux, staring at nothing in particular as he is still trying to accept the fact that he is "best man" and not "groom." He sits among the rest of the ushers, four men he has never made great strides to get to know, and mouths_bestmanbestmanbestman_over and over but it doesn't feel right because he is not and will not be the "best" for Jesse, just his "best man," and the man that will stand besides him as he marries the "best," a _girl_ whom he loves.

He barely notices that the room has emptied, and completely misses Jesse's entrance to the room. Blaine is staring at the carpet under his well-shined shoes, trying not to give in to the urge to turn and run.

"Blaine?" Jesse's voice comes uncharacteristically softly, but still manages to surprise Blaine, jolting him right out of his chair. "Blaine, what the hell is going on with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Blaine is a terrible liar, and Jesse knows this.

"Oh, please," Jesse takes a step in. Blaine can't help but notice how well his suit fits him, how perfectly his hair falls just so, how stunningly handsome he looks today. For someone else. "You insult me with your low expectation of my superior deductive skills. You're my best friend, Blaine; as if I hadn't noticed your mysterious, yet obvious change in character over the last couple of weeks."

Blaine remains silent. What can he say? He surely can't admit his true reason for hating this day.

"What is it?" Jesse has closed in on him now, placing a hand on his shoulder. Blaine both loves and hates the touch; it feels both divine and rotten. "What have I done to earn such distrust from you? What has happened to make you so cold?"

The shorter man heaves a rather dramatic sigh and retreats from his friend's touch. Jesse will not love him and there isn't a thing he can do about it, so he needn't ruin this day with a confession nor his bad attitude. He forces a smile and forces himself to accept the truth. "It's nothing to worry about," he waves his hand. "The more important thing is that you're getting married today. You don't need to focus on me and my issues."

Jesse cocks an eyebrow, more used to a transparent Blaine who is never scared to tell him anything, who confides and knows that no judgment will befall him.

Before Blaine allows him to search for reasons and begin accusing, he strides past him. "Come on, Jesse," he laughs. "It's uncharacteristic for you to care about anyone more than yourself."

"Blaine, stop." Jesse calls, and his friend obeys but doesn't turn to face him. There's a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then Jesse is standing too close, a hand on each of Blaine's shoulders. A hitched breath sticks in Blaine's throat as he feels Jesse's body brush his back and his mind goes completely blank. He hasn't been so close to Jesse in their entire five year and nine month friendship and Jesse's body heat sends a crop of goosebumps down his entire body. Jesse spins Blaine around by his shoulders to face him, and Blaine is looking up at him, up into his eyes, and he knows that there is not a chance in hell that Jesse can't see right through him.

Blaine contemplates confessing his feelings, but foregoes this without thought and yanks Jesse down into a kiss. He isn't sure what he was expecting to gain from this, exactly; perhaps gain was not even a factor, since he didn't have much time to weigh the options, anyhow. However, the moment their lips meet, Blaine knows he will not regret it, feeling what he had only imagined for the last five years and six months.

Pulling away, Blaine scans Jesse's eyes, not sure what he will find there; rejection, surely—maybe even disgust. But, Jesse looks mostly confused, if not a little shocked. Blaine waits a long moment, then heaves a sigh and mumbles an apology, turning to leave the room. However, a strong hand on his bicep stops him mid-step.

"Why?"

It's a simple enough question, for which Blaine has a simple enough answer. The difficult part happens to be getting the words out of his throat. He doesn't bother to turn around and meet Jesse's most likely questioning gaze. He knows that struggling such words through his lips is hard enough without Jesse's perfect face distracting him.

"Blaine…" Jesse tries again, this time in a hushed, almost desperate tone,"…_why?_"

Blaine's shoulders slump and finds his eyes locked to the carpet again. "Because, Jesse." Another sigh escapes his lips as the words sit on his tongue. "I'm… I'm in love with you."

Another long silence brings to Blaine's attention that Jesse's hand is still grasped on his arm, that his best friend hasn't pushed him away or hit him or _any_ of the things he clearly deserves for kissing a man who is literally minutes away from being married to a woman. Of which Blaine most certainly is not. He can only imagine the plethora of questions racing through his groom's mind, and Blaine would really like nothing more than to tear his arm away and escape this horrifically awkward situation.

"But…" Jesse finally manages, voice unusually shaky. "_Why?_Why today? Why… in the world… why would you choose to divulge this information on my _wedding_day?"

Blaine finally turns around to face Jesse, looking determinedly into his eyes. "I don't know, Jesse. It wasn't exactly a _conscious_ decision. I wasn't sitting at home saying, 'you know what I want to do today? Kiss someone who I love but won't ever love me back and confuse the hell out of him on his wedding day?' It just happened; and I am completely content with pretending like it never happened."

Jesse looks down at him in confusion, frowning with his words stuck in his mouth. "I… I'm unsure what, exactly, I'm supposed to do." He narrowed his eyes, "Blaine, I mean—"

"Is this necessary?" Blaine shoots, "I already told you what we should do. And as of right now, we're doing it. You're going to go get married, and I am going to stand up there with you. You are gonna forget that I love you and go marry Rachel Berry. And then neither of us needs to worry about this ever again."

Without letting him say another word, Blaine turns and strides out of the room.

—xx—

It cannot be denied that the St. James-Berry wedding is gorgeous. It has a certain touch that Blaine can only imagine is thanks to one Kurt Hummel, who is looking particularly bright and shiny, beaming in a perfectly tailored pink suit amongst Rachel's pink-clad bridesmaids. Kurt waves a little timidly at Blaine, and when he returns it with a smile, the older boy walks over and envelopes him in a hug.

"It's certainly been a while, Blaine." Kurt's smile, broad though it is, falters a bit as he studies Blaine's face. "Is everything alright?" Blaine's face is screwed up in confusion at the statement, and Kurt merely laughs before continuing. "Oh, please, honey. As if I can't read you like a book. You're so very transparent, my friend."

Blaine's shoulders slump and he knows that, at this point, there's simply no point in lying to Kurt. Instead, he grabs his ex-boyfriend by a baby-pink arm and drags him from the present company. In a hushed tone, the shorter boy admits, "I kissed Jesse."

Kurt stares for a long moment before laughing again, which Blaine finds rather inappropriate; there's not anything particularly hilarious about kissing a man with a fiancé on his wedding day—at least not anything he can see. "Oh, Blaine Anderson. You will never abandon your dramatics, will you? Well, what happened? Just thought you'd get a kiss in with the groom before he was stolen away by Ms. Berry?"

Blaine shakes his head slowly, frowning. He is not fond of how much joy Kurt is finding in what is, in his opinion, a dire situation. "No, Kurt," he murmured, "I'm afraid it's not so simple. Or, rather, not so simple to get over. I happen to be in love with the groom."

It's amazing how much easier it is to say that to someone else.

"Oh," Kurt's face falls. "It appears that dramatics were _très nécessaire,_ then, if its love that inspired such an act. Well?" The taller boy quirks an eyebrow, "What did he say?"

"Nothing. He just asked 'why'." Blaine answers flatly, pursing his lips, "He obviously doesn't return the feeling, Kurt. He's marrying Rachel."

"Blaine, Blaine, Blaine," Kurt tsk's, putting each of his hands on Blaine's shoulders. "There is a vast difference between 'why' and 'nothing'. Don't you understand men at all? Have you forgotten that you are, in fact, one of them?"

Confused, the shorter boy tilts his head to the right, in likeness to a puppy. "I guess I have. Enlighten me, Hummel."

Kurt chuckles and releases his ex-boyfriend. "Why in the world would he want to know why if he wasn't interested?"

Blaine stares for a long moment, considering this. Just as he's about to open his mouth to speak again, the wedding march interrupts them. Gulping, the curly headed man feels his shoulders drop as he likens Canon in D to something akin to a funeral march. Sighing, he takes his place alongside Kurt. He smiles in a weird way. Only Rachel would make her maid of honor a boy; gender roles be damned.

Purple and pink flowers litter the church, and Blaine chuckles because he knows that Jesse had absolutely no say in these decorations. He nudges Kurt softly in a silent compliment to how truly beautiful the whole wedding is, and his ex-boyfriend beams; somehow, that gives him a small bit of hope—hope that he grasps to. If he and Kurt can be okay, then surely Jesse will come around.

But, the funny thing is, he doesn't. Well, physically, he doesn't. As the wedding party assembles, no one seems to notice that the groom hasn't appeared until Rachel is about to push through the doors and begin her walk down the aisle. The march stops and murmurs roll like waves up and down the pews. The doors to the church slowly creak open and Rachel sticks a head in, looking especially unhappy. With a sigh, she pushes the doors open strides down the aisle, somehow managing to storm in a large, puffy, glamorously beautiful gown.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she announces, her piercing tone effectively silencing the entire congregation. "I'm afraid that, as per usual, Jesse is a complete ass. Wedding's off. I'm terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you all so. Any complaints may be taken straight to that jackass of a groom."

Kurt's eyes go wide and his mouth falls open. He shoots a quick shocked look at Blaine before chasing after the bride, surely intending to attend to his maid of honor dues of piecing the bride back together.

The wedding party exchanges a number of looks, and Blaine is standing, frozen in place at the events. He can't bring himself to smile, for he daren't assume that Jesse has feelings; He knows that thinking such a thing could lead to horrible heartbreak; one a day is far more than enough.

His phone shocks him from his stupor when it buzzes incessantly in his pocket, and he curses himself for even bringing it down the aisle, much less leaving it on. With a grumble, he pulls it out and looks at the screen, shocked—and, admittedly, a bit delighted—to see a text from Jesse; one that probably explains the real reason he left Rachel at the alter. A reason that is most certainly not the one he dares not hope for.

Seconds later, he's running down the aisle with his phone clenched in his hand, trying so desperately not to smile; he finds it exceedingly difficult given the message he just received, the message he's repeating in his head as he runs in the direction of its sender.

Jesse St. James: _You are an idiot, Anderson. What in God's name you so incredibly long?_

_—**xx—**_

_Wrote this whilst procrastinating studying for an exam last week._

_Maria_


End file.
